


All This Time

by silence_since_silence



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Barebacking, Car Accidents, Crying, Feelings, Hurt/Comfort, Infidelity, Injury, Jealous Arthur, M/M, Mild Literary References, Past Infidelity, Physical Disability, Romance, Top Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-11 15:24:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5631436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silence_since_silence/pseuds/silence_since_silence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Merlin found out about the cheating during what was supposed to be a cheerful holiday gathering, he and the love of his life were over. Eight years later, nothing of Merlin's former life remains except the memories. Merlin does his best to avoid those, too, until the day his past catches up with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Late November

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Knowmefirst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knowmefirst/gifts).



> This story is for knowmefirst, and I loved every second of writing it for you. I hope it hits your prompt-nails on their heads and that you love it right back.
> 
> Thanks to my beautiful friend who betas with all the speed of a cheetah. Thanks to the mods for organizing and throwing this fest party!
> 
> The title comes from the Doctor Who episode "The End of Time Part 2" (do not watch unless you wish to cry over Tennant), which was brought to my mind by Yellowcard's song "Back Home," a lot of which inspired the mood of this story.

Merlin’s secondhand bookstore isn’t experiencing a drop in the usual number of customers who walk through its doors, but Merlin knows that that time is right around the corner. His store, which is situated on a street with many other stores and a lot of foot traffic, is ever increasingly passed over for more festive window displays as the end-of-year holidays approach. Regardless of the business he is probably losing, Merlin refuses to entice shoppers with any kind of holiday display.

The store’s regular customers – several of whom have become friends with Merlin outside of business hours – fondly refer to Merlin as “Mister Scrooge” during this time of year. In fact, Morgana and Gwen make it a habit to cheerfully shout out “Ebenezer!” at Merlin every time they enter his shop. It probably doesn’t help that there are literary references in all of the signage all over the shop; he probably gave them the idea himself. Merlin humors them most of the time with a scowl and an equally good-natured reply of, “bah, humbug!” Doing so is easier than being honest about what he hates so much about the holidays.

In truth, every tree, every song about snow, every shining piece of plastic tinsel, and every last twinkling light forcibly remind him of the good thing he lost to betrayal. The worst part of remembering is that he sometimes remembers the good times before he remembers all of the pain that led him to feel that he needed to move far away from everything he knew to start an entirely new life.

His shop is his sanctuary from all of the visual reminders he gets when he goes out anywhere else during the holiday season. If he has to endure the memories at the slightest provocation, he isn’t going to make it worse for himself by putting up any festive decorations and thereby inviting the memories to take up residence in his new life.


	2. Early December

All of this careful avoidance goes out the window when his old life walks through his doors one day.

Merlin is stocking the shelves in the biographies section when the bell over the front entrance chimes. He makes quick work of the last half of the box of books he is putting out, and then he moves back to the front counter.

No customers are visible from the counter, so Merlin takes a few minutes to update the stock information on the computer.

He glances up to see if anyone has come toward the front.

There is a man standing fifteen feet away across the store. He is staring at Merlin with his mouth slightly parted and his eyes wide, and he appears to be frozen in place.

Merlin’s heart flops onto the floor at his feet. It’s Arthur.

A few more moments of staring pass, and then Arthur takes a deep breath as though to steady himself. Without looking away from Merlin, he slowly puts down the three books he was carrying under his arm on some empty space on a nearby display table. He blinks twice, then turns and walks to the front door. He glances back at Merlin for a second, but Merlin’s emotions are too tempestuous to accurately read the expression on Arthur’s face. The bell over the door tinkles again, and Arthur is gone in a whoosh of the fabric of his long coat and the noise of the hustle and bustle of the street.

Merlin’s heart is pounding, and he grips the edge of the counter while he tries to ride out the storm inside himself.

A full ten minutes pass before Merlin feels able to think about anything else. No customers need anything from him during that time, and he has never been so grateful for a slow business day.

He moves out from behind the counter to re-shelve the books Arthur left behind. He is acutely aware that he is willingly touching something he knows Arthur has just touched, and this physical connection means that he can’t pretend that this encounter was a hallucination. However, he will go crazy if he leaves the books stacked together and in any place that he can see them. He even makes an effort to forget the titles once they’re all back on their shelves.

What Merlin can’t forget, though, is the feeling that Arthur looks almost the same even though eight years have passed. He is still put-together, though Merlin tries not to remember any specifics of the clothes Arthur used to wear. He is still beautiful, though Merlin tries not to remember any of the details of the lines of Arthur’s face. He still moves through a room with authority and confidence, though Merlin tries not to remember anything about how the set of Arthur’s shoulders or the way he holds himself tall used to make Merlin go weak at the knees.

There is one thing that Merlin realizes is different than he expected, though: Arthur’s left hand was conspicuously devoid of rings of any kind.


	3. Mid December

_Merlin thrusts against the floor beneath him because he can’t stop himself. He feels the tip of Arthur’s dick brush against his ass every time he pulls back to thrust again. Arthur is on his hands and knees over Merlin, and Merlin is on his stomach on the carpet of their bedroom. Arthur’s mouth is on the back of Merlin’s neck, and Merlin never knew that he would get so worked up from nothing but Arthur’s lips brushing over that little spot._

_Arthur shifts his knees to better brace himself, and his hands start to move down Merlin’s sides. Arthur shifts again, and now he is sitting on Merlin’s thighs while his hands are massaging Merlin’s ass._

_It all feels so good. Merlin just wants Arthur inside him as soon as possible. He is already prepared._

_“Patience, beautiful,” Arthur whispers._

_Arthur’s hands leave him and come back moments later covered in slick liquid. He runs them over Merlin’s back and backside, then lays his body down on top of Merlin’s._

_Merlin loves the feeling of Arthur’s body pressing him into the floor. Merlin hasn’t stopped thrusting against the floor._

_Arthur slides his body up and down along Merlin’s body. Arthur’s chest rubs up against Merlin’s shoulders, then all the way down to his lower back. Merlin feels Arthur’s dick slide along the crevice between his legs. The next time Arthur moves back up, he enters Merlin as he slides so that the slide inside is accompanied by the slide of their bodies._

_Merlin pushes his ass up to help Arthur get all the way in, and his mouth opens wide on a moan. Arthur’s mouth is against Merlin’s cheek when he bottoms out, and his satisfied noise makes Merlin’s cock leak._

_It’s tactile and sensual for a long while until Merlin’s skin feels over-sensitized and the speed isn’t enough for him. He begs for Arthur to move faster, and Arthur obliges._

_Merlin’s orgasm in this position is silent but full of bucking and full-body shudders. Arthur rides Merlin like he’s attached, and his own orgasm comes when Merlin is shuddering beneath him and helpless to stop clenching around him._

~

Merlin wakes from yet another dream inspired by memories that he would rather not have to relive. It has been over a week since Arthur left Merlin’s shop, and Merlin hasn’t had an Arthur-free night since then.

Arthur hasn’t come back to the shop at all. It seems that Arthur really doesn’t want to see Merlin again, not even to acknowledge the hurt he caused.

Merlin knows that the dreams are stress induced by the possibility that Arthur might come back. He isn’t sure whether he wants that or not, but he tells himself he never wants to see Arthur again.


	4. Late December

It is two days before that holiday that Merlin tries so hard to forget exists. It is after seven at night, and Merlin is about to close up when his attention is drawn by some knocking against the front window near the counter. He looks up and sees Arthur standing there with his fist still raised at the height of his chest and poised to knock again if necessary.

Merlin can only stare at him.

Arthur mouths _can I come in?_ and makes some relevant motions with his hands. He doesn’t move toward the door more than a single step.

Merlin’s shoulders drop as he lifts his hands in a _do what you must, if it can’t be avoided_ gesture. He adds a muttered, “Why not,” though the expression on his face has dropped off into something resembling resignation. He shakes his head slightly at himself while Arthur makes his way into the store.

As soon as he reaches the counter, Arthur asks, “Can we talk?”

“I’m working, Arthur,” Merlin replies. “I’m closing up for the night.”

Arthur isn’t discouraged. He says, “What if I talk as you close up, and you don’t have to say anything?”

Merlin walks away from the counter, but looks over his shoulder and says, “Talk,” as he starts to tidy up the shelves. He hears Arthur let out a breath.

Merlin’s entire body is tingling from his skin down to his bones due to the anxiety this situation is causing him. He isn’t showing any outward signs, though, and for that he is grateful. He thinks he is holding himself together fairly well.

When Arthur speaks, his voice comes from back by the counter. He didn’t move to follow Merlin around. Merlin is glad of the reprieve from being in close proximity, but he also feels like every move he makes is on display. It is an uncomfortable feeling of performance; Merlin keeps his back turned away from Arthur as much as possible.

“There are so many things I want to say,” Arthur says. “I thought I knew where I wanted to start, but now my thoughts are all over the place.” He pauses, and Merlin re-shelves two more out-of-place books before Arthur starts up again. “The most important thing is I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Merlin. I’m sorry I thought that you could ever even think about someone else while you were committed to me, let alone do anything about it. I’m sorry that I went ahead with my _stupid_ plan of revenge – I wasn’t thinking right. I’m sorry it went on so long. I’m sorry I forced you to find out in the way that you did; there is no excusing that. I’m sorry it took years and a doomed rebound marriage before I realized any of that. And I’m sorry… I’m just so…” Arthur trails off.

Merlin doesn’t turn around, but his movements are extremely forced as he continues to tidy up.

Arthur starts up again. “I hurt us. _I_ broke us. But most importantly I hurt you. I made everything toxic. You _left_ your _life_ because of the poison I put into it!” Merlin hears Arthur sniffle as though he’s trying to hold back tears.

Merlin’s eyes are watering, but he hardens himself against these emotions as he has learned to do over the better part of a decade. His vision clears up again.

Arthur seems to be doing a worse job of keeping himself together, because his voice sounds strained and his nose sounds clogged when he delivers his next line.

“I love you, Merlin,” he says.

Merlin feels no pity for the hint of desperation in Arthur’s tone. Arthur has no right to say that to him no matter what remorse Arthur feels.

The paperback in Merlin’s hand slams into the carpet as Merlin whirls around. His eyes are blazing with pent-up anger. When he speaks, his voice is loud, strong, and commanding.

“You need to leave. Now.”

Arthur is as much of a mess as he sounded a moment ago. He doesn’t move to go anywhere, though he does take a step back with the force of Merlin’s fury.

Merlin’s patience is gone. “Now! _Leave!_ I will call the police and have you removed!” Merlin takes a step toward the phone at the front desk.

Arthur’s shock at Merlin’s vehemence shows on his face, but it doesn’t stop him from half-running for the door. He nearly trips over a bookshelf, but rights himself and dashes off out the door and into the night.

Merlin finishes up, turns off the lights, and leaves.


	5. Late December

When Merlin comes into his shop the next day, he is dripping from the rain pouring down outside. There is no sign of anything at all amiss inside, though, and he opens up as usual.

He goes about his business. He helps damp customers who are looking for that last-minute present. He orders a few more copies of the things he has run out of.

He feels nothing. It is as though his emotions have been scooped out of him and are being held several feet safely away from him by invisible, neutral hands. Work is easy, if rote.

At around one in the afternoon, Merlin looks out the front window to see if the weather is still awful. It is, but that isn’t what catches his eye.

Arthur is staring at him from under an awning directly across the two-lane street. Arthur’s expression is one of distress. He sees that Merlin is looking back at him. He seems to decide that he wants to get closer, because he steps out into the rain and moves toward the road.

Before Merlin can make any sort of expression or hand gesture that expresses how very much he does _not_ want Arthur to come any closer, Arthur steps into the road like a man possessed. He doesn’t look for oncoming traffic, so he doesn’t see the delivery van moving toward him from too close a distance.

But Merlin can hear the breaks squeal even from inside his building. Merlin sees when the van passes the point when it would have stopped if the street were dry. Merlin sees its boxy grill connect with Arthur’s left side. Merlin sees it send Arthur to the ground where Arthur’s head bounces against the concrete, and Merlin sees the van stop over Arthur with its wheels at the same level as Arthur’s torso.

Merlin races out of the shop.

In the street, people are starting to gather. The traffic on Merlin’s side of the road hasn’t slowed down yet, and Merlin has to flag down the next car to get it to stop so that he can rush across the lane to get to Arthur.

He goes to his knees next to Arthur’s head. Any blood Arthur has lost on the street is getting swept away by the rain, so Merlin can’t tell how much Arthur has lost.

The delivery van driver opens the door, and Merlin turns and shouts over the sound of the rain and the traffic and the people and his own racing heart for them to call for an ambulance.

He looks back down at Arthur. Arthur looks up at him. Merlin feels a little relief that Arthur is still alive, but mostly he feels panic that Arthur might not be alive for much longer.

Merlin’s hands, which had been hovering over Arthur’s chest and the top of Arthur’s head, now close the last few inches to Arthur’s body. One lands lightly on Arthur’s bicep, and the other finds its way to a clean-looking spot in Arthur’s hair.

“Merlin,” Arthur says. His voice is very quiet.

Merlin leans over Arthur’s head so the rain will stop falling on his face. A few drops land on Arthur’s nose, but Merlin doesn’t realize they’re coming from him until Arthur points it out.

“Don’t, Merlin,” Arthur says. “No man is worth your tears, beautiful.”

Merlin tries to laugh at the familiar endearment, but he only hiccups. His tears come harder.

Arthur’s eyelids droop and his eyes roll up, so Merlin shouts “Arthur!” to get Arthur’s attention. It works, and Arthur refocuses on Merlin. “Stay here, baby. Stay with me.”

“Not sure I can,” Arthur slurs out.

The blood coming out of Arthur’s left side is finally enough to stain his shirt, and Merlin notices.

“Please don't die, Arthur. I don't—” Merlin’s throat closes up with his tears, and he gulps them down to finish his sentence. “I don’t want you to die.” The anguish in Merlin’s voice is heartbreaking, even to himself, but it doesn’t keep Arthur from losing blood or consciousness.

When the paramedics pull Merlin away from Arthur so they can get to work, Merlin is soaked to the bone and he can’t see straight for the tears in his eyes. He sits on the curb a few feet away until Arthur is lifted into the ambulance and driven away. He notices the bloodstains on the knees of his jeans while a police officer tries to get a statement out of him.


	6. Epilogue: Late December one year and a few hours later

“Arthur, are you ready back there?” Merlin shouts from the front of the shop.

Arthur rolls into view a few moments later. “Just putting the last of the children’s books back on their shelves. You know how the Thursday reading group gets.”

Merlin laughs as he thinks about the kids’ antics. “I’m surprised so many of them showed up today,” he says. “I thought they would all be at home with their families, what with the holiday and all.”

“Must have been the party you offered to throw them,” Arthur hypothesizes. “I think even the parents were glad to have the chance to take a break from whatever has been making them crazy at home this holiday season.”

“Speaking of crazy at home, we need to get out of here and back to _our_ parents,” Merlin says.

Arthur beckons Merlin closer with a single finger. When Merlin’s lips are a hair’s breadth away from Arthur's, Arthur whispers, “Are you certain about that?” Arthur kisses Merlin lightly. “We could still try to book a room somewhere.” Arthur kisses Merlin again. “Leave our parents at our place until tomorrow.” Arthur rubs their noses together. “Nothing to say we can’t wake up alone together tomorrow morning.”

Merlin kisses Arthur hard, but draws back before things get heated. “You would rather wake up in some hotel bed and have to get _dressed_ before going to find food that _isn’t_ my cooking? On Christmas morning when nobody is going to be making food anywhere but their own kitchens?”

Arthur makes a face. “Oh, you’re so right,” he says.

“Was that actually a compliment?” Merlin quips.

Arthur grins. “Let’s get out of here, beautiful.”

They kiss again, then make their way to the door, turn off the lights, and leave together.


End file.
